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Meditation – Taking Energy From Trees

There is a simple meditation that I do sometimes, when I feel the need to be strengthened. It is something my Aboriginal Aunties taught me to do.

Let me show you how to do it too.

Find a tree. It could be a big tree, or small, gnarled or straight. Stand where you can see the tree. If you are ill, and bed-bound, it is fine for it to be a tree outside your window.

Focus on the tree. Make a connection in your mind between you and the tree. Make a connection in your heart between you and the tree. Feel the energy of the tree. Feel your energy.

When you have that energetic bond, ask the tree for help. Ask the tree to add to your energy. Ask the tree to strengthen you.

Now imagine the sap of the tree flowing. Flow that sap into your body. Into your veins. Feel the strength of the tree fill you up. Feel the calm of the tree. Feel its resilience, its watchfulness, its connection to the Earth Mother, to the Sun Mother and to Father Sky.

Feel the rain that has fallen. Feel the wind that has blown. Feel how all of that gets inside you, and energises your blood. Feel it strengthen your bones, calm your mind and nourish your heart.

When you are done, give thanks. Disconnect from the tree. Feel the difference in your body. That is Tree Magic.

I saved the quote til last this week. It’s a little snippet of philosophy from Herman Hesse. It thrills me in a quiet way, to juxtapose Aboriginal wisdom and a German writer who won the Nobel Prize in literature.

“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”
~ Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

About Cauldrons and Cupcakes

Hi! I'm Nicole Cody. I am a writer, psychic, metaphysical teacher and organic farmer. I love to read, cook, walk on the beach, dance in the rain and grow things. Sometimes, to entertain my cows, I dance in my gumboots. Gumboot dancing is very under-rated.

30 thoughts on “Meditation – Taking Energy From Trees”

I love this meditation. I haven’t really said anything because it makes me sound totally batty! I’ve been doing this meditation for a while, I was walking in a park with lots of beautiful big trees and then I heard the tree tell me how to so this meditation… by touching the tree you can actually feel the strength and energy travel into your body. Feel the years and the wise quiet spirit of the tree. Thank you for the affirmation that I was on the right track and creating a space where I can be true to who I really am xx

I often sit out on the deck in the evening and just stare at the trees. I watch them sway in the breeze and listen to the sound of their leaves rustling. It does make me feel good to do so perhaps I was meditating and didn’t even realize it.

I love the meditation and the quote! Thank you. We live in a gum studded place and the energy of the dead gums is just as powerful. How long they stand with not a leaf in sight yet still so strong. I chuckle now as I think back to when we first moved here. We thought we’d have to chop the dead ones out because they’d be dangerous. Trees have taught me so much. xxx

I can not believe how beautiful that was . I have an an acer outside my window . I bought it when it was a twig over twenty years ago . It’s mahogany leaves in Autumn are to die for . I am soon to leave my house for another and my beautiful tree will be in the care of another . Thank you so much for that meditation it worked wonders …loved the excerpt too .
Cherryx

This is just beautiful. I love trees, always have done. My favourite tree at home is a 20 year old flame tree that we call our hugging tree. All of us go and hug that tree at times, even my super straight 10 year old son 🙂 I am going to practice your tree love tomorrow xo

This is great and Ty for sharing this. When I am feeling overwhelmed and anxious I go down to the road to an old abandoned home steed and hug the old elm growing in the middle of the field.
It’s sturdiness and scent calm me.

As part of my Druid studies we connect with trees a lot. It feels silly at first but you soon get enough response to encourage you. I do think they know and care about their offspring, though, if not in the same way as we do.

Thank you for this! I recently read this excerpt by Herman Hess, so it felt like beautiful synchronicity to see it here again. In one of the lowest points in my life, a summer about 9 years ago, a tree brought me home to myself and reminded me I was not separate. I couldn’t really do much because I was so despondent (really, I felt like I would never again feel the beauty of anything), but I could walk and chose to walk the same trail everyday. A sapling was just starting to grow and each time I passed this tree, I touched it, thanked it and continued on in my own misery. But, the touchstone of that tree, being grateful for one thing in the midst of this tumultuous time, really helped heal me. By the end of the summer, the tree was as tall as I was and in the evening when I walked, the sun sparkled off the tree and it felt like a greeting. Thanks for reminding me of this memory!

I’ve been searching for home almost all of my life, and in recent times I have come to the same conclusion as Hermann Hesse, though not with quite the same eloquence. And I am home among trees, and touch and talk to them often. Their energy is life-giving, and life-affirming, and can still a burning heart. Thank you for your words, Nichole, and for sharing Hesse’s. Love <3

Reblogged this on Luile Beith and commented:
I’ve been searching for home almost all of my life, and in recent times I have come to the same conclusion as Hermann Hesse, though not with quite the same eloquence. And I am home among trees, and touch and talk to them often. Their energy is life-giving, and life-affirming, and can still a burning heart. Thank you for your words, Nichole, and for sharing Hesse’s. Love <3

Oh my ! Nicole, I m reading the excerpt by Herman Hesse for the very first time. I m so glad I was able to come across it. Thank you for including it. I have had to wander from home to home, and its the trees in the vicinity that’s always made me feel at home , at all of these places. They are like family, they are family.